


The Storm Descends

by Mariabella Baggins (AgentFrostbite)



Series: The Dragon Riders of Middle Earth [11]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: (I really hope I nailed Thror's insanity), Author attempts to write argument between sane people and crazy person, Bella and Thorin are finally on the same page about being in love, Bella and Thorin don't deserve this, Bella is a Queen and you'd Best Not Forget That, But I did it to them anyway, Cute moments before it All goes Wrong 2.0, Everyone here is awesome except Thror and Phira, F/M, Female Bilbo Baggins, Hey guess what tag I FORGOT AGAIN, Men Being Awesome, The major climax you've been waiting for, Who are both crazy, Women Being Awesome, admittance of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:47:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25748386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentFrostbite/pseuds/Mariabella%20Baggins
Summary: The Arkenstone has been cured, but Thror is looking for the dragon-charmer, eager to speak with her an keep her under his hold. His family does not want to oppose him, but to protect Thorin, Frerin, and the Hobbit-lass, they will have no choice. Meanwhile, at the Faish realm's palace, the coup comes to a head as the saboteur reveals herself and demands the throne so that she can wage war over an old feud. With two crazy, power-hungry, formidable leaders challenging the Company from all sides, they will have to rely on quick thinking and no small amount of courage to pull themselves and the kingdoms through.(that awkward feeling when you forget A WHOLE SUMMARY and only remember that Summaries Are A Necessary Thing AFTER you hit the post button...)
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Dis/Vili
Series: The Dragon Riders of Middle Earth [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1341334
Kudos: 33
Collections: One Two Switcheroo





	The Storm Descends

"King Thror," Vili greeted in Khuzdul as the old king entered. He didn't bow – no-one did – but they'd never had to, since he was family. Thror didn't seem to care about such formalities yet.

"How is Thrain?" Thror asked. No-one in the room had any misgivings about why he was there. There was no care in his eyes, no concern for his only son, no love for his family. There was only cordiality and the calm before the storm. "Has he woken yet?"

"No," Uma responded, one hand tenderly stroking her husband's forehead. "He has not."

Thror nodded gravely. From the other side of the room, where Fili and Kili sat, they squirmed. Perhaps, once upon a time, a nod such as that might've meant genuine concern as Thror puzzled out how to handle a situation with as much wisdom as possible. Now, though, the sharp light in his eyes indicated a thought process driven more by greed than anything else.

"Where is Thorin? I haven't seen him since he left the party tonight." Thror inquired. He wandered around a bit, looking at this or that, eyes lingering longest on the gold and silver decorations or jewelry lying out. "Is he with the Halfling dragon charmer?"

Uma had been tending to Thrain, to give her something to do so she wouldn't need to look into her father-in-law's mad gaze. At this statement, though, she paused. Thorin had spoken of Thror's strange desire toward knowing the Hobbit's activities, where she was, who she was with. "Thror looks at her," he said, "like he looks at his gold." Dis was watching her grandfather, and indeed, that was his expression.

"I'm not sure," Uma replied. "I've been here all night, tending to Thrain." Thror crossed the room and laid a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. It didn't rest heavily, like when he wanted something, but comfortingly, like he truly cared and felt her plight. "Kids?"

"Last I saw him, he and Frerin were headed down toward the mines," Dis lied smoothly. Thror removed his hand from Uma's shoulder and wandered about a bit.

"And the charmer?"

"Haven't seen her since the party," Fili answered honestly.

"She said she was tired and retired to her room about an hour before the festivities slowed down. I haven't seen or heard anything about her since," Kili added, nodding fervently and ignoring the twisting feeling in her gut that told him that this lie was more crucial than any he'd told before.

"Is she still there? Do you know?" Thror asked hopefully.

Fili and Kili looked at each other, perfect pictures of innocence, then looked back to their great-grandfather and shrugged.

"What does the Halfling matter?" Dis asked dismissively. "She'll be gone tomorrow."

"It would be very useful to have such a skilled charmer with us," Thror started craftily. "There are many of those unsavory beasts that keep trying to infest our mines, and even the Orcs have begin to trap and unleash them upon us in battle. There are other things, too – yes, threats from the far North that only a dragon charmer can handle…"

"Have you spoken with her about this yet?" Vili asked. "A decision such as that should be presented as soon as possible so she has time to think about it."

"She doesn't need time," Thror brushed him off. "She'll agree. She has no reason not to."

"What reason does she have to stay?" Dis countered, failing to completely hide her sharp tone. "We are not her people, and this is not her home."

"Glory, fame, honor," Thror replied, utterly sure of himself. "She'd be the most respected Halfling to walk Middle-Earth and would have anything her heart desires. More dragons, larger rooms, gold beyond counting. She'd be a fool to say no, and no fool could have such a reputation."

"Those things mean little to Hobbits," Fili answered as he rose. "They don't care about fame, they have no reason for glory, and their honor does not lie where ours does, with great deeds and victories."

Thror glared at his great-grandson. "She _will_ stay with us," he growled. "I'll make sure of it."

"You can't _make_ her stay, Grandfather," Dis half-shouted. "She has no place amongst our people!" She kept her tongue enough not to say what Bella was, though her eyes flashed with indignation and the barest hints of betrayal.

He whirled around and took three steps toward her. Vili pushed himself off the chair and to his feet, standing beside his wife. Thror seemed to take no notice of his support and the promise of battle should the King do anything more than shout. "She does if _I_ say she does. _I_ am the _King_ , and things are as I say they are!"

"You would kidnap her to keep her here?" Uma asked faintly.

"If I must. If you wish for her stay in Erebor to be pleasant, you should speak with her about the matter and sway her to our point of view," Thror hissed. His eyes shone with madness and his fingers twitched, as though they were rifling through treasure or locking around a sword. He then stormed off, muttering about needing a dragon charmer.

"Am I the only one who thinks he knows something we don't?" Kili asked.

"No, you are not," Dis replied, "and I intend to find out what it is." She gathered her cloak and fastened it, while Vili found her crown and tenderly placed it on her head. His hands lingered by the sides of her face, and she pressed her hands over his. He rested his forehead against hers, then gave her a quick kiss on the lips.

"You be careful, Dis. Promise me you will."

"I will return to you, amrâlimê," she answered. She then put her hood up and strode out.

* * *

Bella hadn't asked for Thorin or Frerin to follow her, but neither had she forbade them from doing so. Honestly, it was relieving to have Thorin behind her, there to support her, even if they were no longer on the same page with their feelings.

Phira and her entourage were all there – more members of the council than Bella had hoped would support her – arrayed in their best finery. Phira herself glittered like her sapphire namesake, in deep blues and shiny silvers. She was wearing a circlet that wasn't one of the royal ones, but sought to imitate them. She had a confident smirk on her face that didn't reach her eyes, which were filled with disgust and contempt.

By contrast, Bella had on a simple dark tunic and breeches, no circlet, no jewelry, not even her sword. The only thing she had that might mark her as anything but a Hobbit was the dagger Thorin made for her. She looked about the furthest thing from a Queen as one could, and she knew that Phira had been hoping for just that. She would get quite a shock, though, if she thought that Bella's regality was something imbued only in the fancy clothes and expensive jewels that she wore as Queen.

"We are here to call for a changing of the throne."

"We've discussed this before, Phira," Bella replied shortly. "I still have a legitimate claim on the throne, by birthright and tradition, and need I remind you, you wouldn't be awake to present this argument were it not for my intervention."

"Be that as it may, O illustrious Queen, we disagree with how you're running the kingdom and are here to contest." Phira approached, the gentle tinkling of the gems gathered on her shoulders filling the space.

"You're in no position to make demands," Bella snapped, lifting her chin. "This is a blatant act of treason and contempt for the crown, and simply for that, I could have your ear tips if I wished. Not to mention the numerous acts of sabotage and attempted murder against Erebor's royal family, which endangered their lives as well as the lives of innocent Hobbits who had nothing to do with either of your feuds."

"For which I am regretful," Phira replied, though it was far from sincere. "That doesn't change the fact that a mistake has been made, which I intend to rectify. Erebor belongs to the Orossi, and that senile old fool of a Faish king who gave them the Mountain had no right to do so! It was not his realm!"

"They swore fealty," Hayla spoke up, standing beside Bella, almost in front of her, and glaring daggers into her former friend. "They promised trade, begged protection, and pledged loyalty to the throne. This disgraceful double standard about getting what they want and not doing what was required in return didn't protect your ancestors then, and they won't protect this little coup now." She laid a hand on her sword, and Phira snorted. There was no mirth in it, only sadness.

"You'd draw your sword against me, dearest friend?"

"To protect the throne? Without question."

"If you disagree with the policies of this throne," Thorin cut in, "then leave. There is nothing tying you to this land, if your grudge against it is true."

Phira narrowed her eyes at the prince, and lifted her chin to stare at him haughtily. "This is not your business, _stoneheart_."

"That's enough," Bella growled, cutting off Frerin's indignant exclamation. "Prince Thorin is right. You have no wish to stay here? Then don't. I'll not give up my throne just so you can go to war over a past slight. What's done is done; accept the circumstances and move on. I'll offer you two choices. You can stay, continue to pursue this foolish course of action, and likely get yourself and your merry band of followers there executed, or you can take the southlands beyond the border."

Phira opened her mouth to protest, but Hayla stepped forward and grabbed her arm. "Please, Phira," she begged. "If you've ever had any fondness for me, take the offer and go. I don't want you to be my enemy."

Though Phira had no love of Bella, and certainly no respect for the Dwarves, she did still care deeply for Hayla. After searching the Forest-Fae's pleading eyes, she sighed shortly, conceding the battle. "Very well. We will build our own realm there, though know this is not for you," she added, still glaring at Bella.

"Then go, and may the Valar guide your steps," Bella replied. Phira snapped her fingers, then turned on her heel and strode out. Her entourage – composed of some who cowered under Bella's harsh gaze and some who grumbled at their chosen leader's surrender – followed without a single remark to anyone in the room. "Hayla, if you…"

"I'll see them out," the Tavari answered softly, exiting behind the group. Bella sighed and almost sank to the floor.

"You should've punished them," Frerin said darkly. "They're not going to just quietly slink off."

"Frerin-" Thorin started.

"They tried to kill you!" he protested. "They almost killed our nephew, and they're trying to start a war! People like that can be handled only through defeat in battle, and you know it, too."

"Be that as it may, we have more pressing matters to deal with," Thorin countered sharply. "It's not our kingdom; we don't get to dictate how it's run."

"She's not the only one who thinks I'm unfit to rule," Bella added. "If I handled that too harshly, others would join her cause." She sighed deeply. "Sometimes, being a fair ruler and being a smart one don't line up, so as much as it stings to let her get away with off of this, I can't punish her just yet. She has to move directly against me and my family first."

The room was silent for a long while, as each person contemplated what had just happened and what still might. Thorin was the first to move. "We need to get back. We've been away too long already."

Bella nodded, still slightly numb, and walked back to the garden. One of the guards at the door nodded to her as she passed, as she took it to mean that he'd inform Hayla once she'd finished escorting the outcasts out of the palace.

The flight back was less spectacular, spent in tense silence. Both dragons picked up on the mood and sobered accordingly, though Lucky still flew alongside Twilight, rather than curling up on Bella's shoulder like he so obviously wanted to. She sent Lucky on ahead of her, back to her guest room, then backtracked to the hallway junction that split between the royal chambers and the guest rooms. As they dismounted, she opened her mouth to speak, but snapped it shut when she found she couldn't decide what to say. If either of them saw, they didn't say anything. As she remounted, though, Thorin's hand suddenly covered hers.

It was still warm and gentle. His rough and calloused palms lingered there, wanting to take both of her soft, slender hands and hold them securely, but knowing that they weren't done sorting out the aftermath of revealing her heritage. She held her hands still, almost too afraid to move, not wanting to startle him off.

"Be careful," he said. She looked into his deep blue eyes and yes, there was doubt, mistrust, uncertainty, but there was still _love_ , and it took her breath away.

She risked moving and placed her free hand on top of his. "I will," she promised.

Then he backed away and she took off, soaring to the top of the hallway, staying near the ceiling as she snuck her way to the throne room. When she got there, she ran into Dwalin again. He was standing by the closed doors, the only Dwarf in the large hallway. She paused, then landed and slid off. He watched her carefully, his stony gaze betraying nothing. Slowly, she took the Arkenstone out of the saddlebag and handed it to him. He took it, then entered the room without a single word. She might have stayed, were she braver or curiouser, but she wasn't. She was tired and stressed and she wanted to eat a piece of bread and collapse onto her borrowed bed, or perhaps against Twilight's side.

She remounted and took off, fervently hoping that no-one would catch either her or Dwalin in this last step. She made it back to her room and threw another couple logs in the fireplace, then passed out on the floor in front of the fireplace, lulled to sleep by the crackling wood and flickering flames.

* * *

It had been the Thain's idea to get the delegation home as soon as possible. He'd roused the rest of the Hobbits from slumber, made them pack everything up, and gotten them ready to fly before he even arrived at Thorin's door. "We're ready to depart. Might we count on your for an escort?"

"Yes," Thorin answered immediately. The man really was cunning. It didn't take Thorin more than fifteen minutes to put on a suitable outfit and meet the delegation. Dis, awoken by the commotion, joined him – partially to give him an excuse should he run across their grandfather, partially to see them off, and most likely to speak with him further about his feeling for the fabled dragon charmer. Seeing Bella standing there beside Twilight, perfectly alive and unharmed was a relief. His sister informed him of their grandfather's concerning behavior last night, and he hadn't slept restfully, if he was being totally honest with himself.

They locked eyes again, and she seemed to take that as a signal. She walked forward, with Lucky perched on her arm. The way her gaze darted back and forth made him wonder if she'd heard something about Thror's behavior, as well. Nevertheless, he schooled his expression and posture when she approached. "I'm not sure how to start this," she admitted once she was close enough that they could talk quietly and mostly be unheard.

"Nor am I," he also admitted.

She pursed her lips for a second, then extended her arm. Lucky trilled happily at him, and Thorin – abandoning all sense – stroked the little dragon. His scales were of a strange feel. Where Twilight's were smooth and streamlined, his was more like an unpolished stone – flat, and neither rough nor smooth. He was cool to the touch, and he nuzzled into Thorin's warm hand. "If it's alright with you, I think he should stay here," Bella said.

He looked up at her. Realistically, what other reason would she have for bringing the little dragon to Thorin as she said farewell? "We're not trainers," he pointed out.

"You'll need the protection," she replied seriously. "There's no way your grandfather doesn't find out about your helping us, and Yavanna forbid he ever find out about…" She left the sentence unfinished, and they filled in the gap with scenes from only a few hours ago. "Besides, he'd be miserable at not getting to see you for a while."

"You intend to return?" The question slipped before he could stop it, and now that it was out in the open, all the implications and other unanswered questions floated around them as well, a thick halo of 'what if's and 'maybe we could's that gave him an almost heady feeling of hope. The feeling only intensified when she didn't immediately refuse.

"I do," she answered, and all at once, the flutterings that had turned him inside out over the past week rushed through him again. "Once this is settled down, once your grandfather gets better, you come find me, and I'll come back." She took his hands in hers, and Lucky crawled from her arm to his shoulders. Dis gasped in mild horror. He was slightly ashamed to admit he'd momentarily forgotten she was there.

"I'll hold you to that," he answered, and while he'd been aiming for light and possibly flirtatious, he landed far short of them mark, still very serious. "You should go."

"I know," she whispered. He could see in her face that there was an unsettled dread growing in her gut. There was a part of her that wasn't sure she'd see him again. That was surely why she moved in and pressed a tender kiss to his cheek. Her lips lingered there, light as a butterfly's touch, but with all the searing heat of a Monstrous Nightmare's flame. Had she lingered any longer, he would've turned his head just so and met her lips with his. He wanted to move forward when she pulled away, to reciprocate the kiss if nothing else, but he knew that if he did, he couldn't make himself let her go.

The tendrils of possessiveness reappeared, curling around his soul, hissing that she _should_ stay, he wanted her, that was reason enough. Ultimately, that might've been what gave him the strength to let her slip away. He would not become that monstrous _thing_ he was so desperately trying to fight.

It still took them longer than it should have to unlink their hands, and her gaze didn't leave him until after the whole delegation had mounted and some of them had taken off. When she flew away, Thorin had no doubts. Despite her lineage, against all reason, regardless of his own efforts to emotionally disconnect himself from her, she was still his One. She was leaving with a piece of him, and he would not be truly whole until she returned.

Once they were gone, Dis took his hand and they strolled back toward their rooms. There was a thick silence between them for a moment, and she finally said, "You do love her."

"She's my One, Dis. I can't help but love her," he answered truthfully. She nodded slowly.

"Leave it to the traditional one to fall in love with a Faish Halfling," she remarked. He chuckled wryly. "I wanted to wait until they left to say this, but a rumor has come form the North. It's only one, and it's still very much unconfirmed, but they say…they say that there's a treasure hoard here, and a Firedrake has taken notice of it."

He stopped and turned to her. "Tell me that's not true," he half-begged. She shook her head, wordlessly saying that she didn't know. Rumors might just be rumors, but one so dangerous as that needed to be addressed. "Does Grandfather know?"

"I think he does. That's why he wanted the Hobbit so badly. He thinks she can tame the Firedrake." Thorin clenched his fists and changed his direction. "Thorin, where are you going?"

"To speak with him; where else?"

Even though he knew it wouldn't end well.


End file.
